


{he doesn’t love you like he loves the ocean}

by short_kawanishi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Cuddling & Snuggling, Exes, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Other, Platonic Relationships, Road Trips, SemiShira Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23091232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/short_kawanishi/pseuds/short_kawanishi
Summary: Eita didn't mean to make a half-thought out drunk promise to Kenjirou while laying his head across his lap in the early hours of the morning, but he definitely didn't expect to be held to it months later, when their relationship had fallen to ruins. He thought he'd forgotten that he once loved Kenjirou.And for Kenjirou, of course, he didn't know why he chased after Eita for so long, only to find they didn't work out.Happy SemiShira Day !
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, Shirabu Kenjirou/Semi Eita
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	{he doesn’t love you like he loves the ocean}

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tall_shirabu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_shirabu/gifts).



> this is my first time writing shirabu so aaaaaa (also its very rushed and edited at a time where i was half-conscious PFFT)!! bear w me PLS but thank u for giving this short fic a try !! theyre so cute & i love them sm
> 
> p.s. TJIS FOR U, FROOBNEY ! thank u for putting up with my typos and supportign me u my biggest fan and tbh im yours <3

**{he doesn’t love you | we’re just friends}**

Drunk promises come back to bite you in the ass.

At three in the morning, half a year from where Eita was now, he lay on the grass outside the dorm building of his college, slammed. Kenjirou took to sitting beside him, fortunately sober, offering begrudging company at such an ungodly hour. Between trying to make out his thoughts from drunk internal screaming and average, conscious ones, as well as counting the stars for no particular reason, Eita barely knew how to form coherent sentences. Instead, considering Kenjirou’s aversion to small talk, they lingered near each other in silence, each with questionable thoughts of their own. Eita thought of how dogs strangely resembled wolves, while Kenjirou thought of the person beside him. 

He watched Eita as cicadas sang their tune and moths fluttered round the nearby lamppost. The silence between them lasted a suffocating two minutes-- Kenjirou spent most of it mulling his emotions. He knew sitting here, especially at this time, was some mistake that could only end in a catastrophe sent by the gods. In the bitter yet damp cold air around them, seated upon dew-covered grass, he questioned just a bit of everything. His emotions, his current situation, what Eita began mumbling about only seconds prior, and how he’d finish dealing with this. He wasn’t a _soft_ person. He didn’t have time to trip over one guy for ages and ages, only to lose his grip on emotional stability, spiraling downwards until he hit that cold, ruthless rock bottom of inevitable rejection. 

The last thing he wanted was to give Eita control over his mental health. He’d rather avoid any sort of matters related to emotions, so maybe he would just sit here, feeling the most alone he could near the person he liked, watching him for a fake eternity. 

“Do-- Have you ever, like, wondered if--” This wasted version of Eita prodded into his normal thoughts, though Kenjirou didn’t know whether to consider it good or bad. “Like, if you weren’t a good person. And, like, what if people only like you because-because you’re _hot_.” 

“Come again?” Kenjirou raised one eyebrow, accompanied by an irked tilt of his head. “You’re not _hot_.”

“Rude.” 

“At least I’m telling you the truth,” he snapped, his palms moving to the wet grass below them. It soaked part of his pants already, which added onto the hindrances. He knew he’d end up yanking Eita off the ground, then have to stop in a community bathroom on the way, just in case the remnants of party food decided to reverse their journey. He swore to himself he didn’t like Eita _that_ much but ended up taking care of him when he got into such idiotic predicaments. “C’mon. Let’s go inside.”

In weak retaliation, Eita flopped onto his left side, allowing his head to fall against his arm and whined, “ _No_. Tha’s a bad idea.” He dug his fingers into the grass and dirt, then wiggled (rather woodenly), to Kenjirou’s lap. Considering the state he was in, he hadn’t expected any fight from his begrudging companion.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” As Kenjirou swore, down towards the head in his lap, Eita directed his attention upwards. He stared, attention fully fixated onto Kenjirou’s eyes. With half his mind already fixated on drunk thoughts, the rest wandered around aimlessly until it found intense interest in Kenjirou and his slim features, all perfect for Eita to dote on. “Get off me.”

In response to Kenjirou’s snippety attitude, Eita giggled, then shifted his cheek against the nearest thigh. “C’mon, c’mon, Kenji. Don’t be a prick,” his voice floated off, up into the air, too saccharine to be from any coherent person. The alcohol hit him particularly hard that night. “Let me enjoy your nice little lap.” 

Fortunately for Eita, looks were on his side. Attractive features saved him from disaster again, though he suspected nothing of it for many long whiles. He just assumed he had a way with words when, in reality, he was as eloquent as a fish. And just about anyone could bet that Kenjirou _noticed_ , and yet he harbored feelings for such an idiot. Sometimes he thought of this and disappointment grew within his stomach, but it didn’t last long-- by that time, Eita had managed to sway him back into the euphoria of a crush in some odd way. Kenjirou never had enough in him to bother trying to figure it out. 

Rather than snapping at him, Kenjirou said, “ _Fine_ , but stay still.” And from that, he earned another giggle from Eita, who settled his back against the dewy grass and stared up at him, a glazed, absentminded look to his eyes. 

“We should go on a trip together, Kenjirou. I’ll take you somewhere amazing, I swear it,” he mumbled, then took a warm hand up to Kenjirou’s face, brushing aside his bangs with a slim index finger. On Eita’s end, he saw the world blurrier than he would’ve preferred if he could remember what it was supposed to look like. Kenjirou’s face was nearly unrecognizable through his eyes, but he thought it pretty still. “Like we’ll get in my car and just _leave_. I’ll have a map and that’s all.” He released a soft breath, just as his hand fell across his stomach. 

In the same instant, Kenjirou’s eyes widened. His heart raced, pulse blaring in his ears like some kind of alarm to get away from Eita and all his bubbling, rising feelings. He felt his face burn. “It’d be stupid to leave without a plan, you idiot,” he murmured down towards Eita, recoiling his hands from the vicinity of the head across his lap. “and why would I want to go _anywhere_ with you?”

His chest ached; he knew he didn’t want to hear the answer. He knew it wouldn’t sound right, no matter how this wasted Eita phrased it. It would _never_ sound right. Eita could only say a number of things in response, but Kenjirou wished for one that sat in an entirely different spot. Still, though, he listened. He’d asked and he would listen.

“Because I love you.”

“What?”

“Like a friend, Kenji. You’re so silly-- you’d be so disgusted if I had such _strong_ romantic feelings for you.”

“Right.”

**{burning rubber | seatbelts}**

“You’re a bastard,” Kenjirou swore, forehead against the steering wheel of Eita’s small, useless car. At five in the morning, when the sun hadn’t even woken up from the bed of mountains in the distance, the car stalled in the university parking lot. Now, Kenjirou directed his statement at both Eita and the vehicle, but much to his chagrin, only one replied. 

And, really, “Huh?” wasn’t a reply he wanted from the groggy Semi Eita in the passenger seat. He felt like kicking him. Just going all out on the guy he used to like, though he refused to believe any pent-up anger from their three-month-long relationship (which resulted in an awkward friendship, that started only a month prior to the beginning of summer and their trip). It’d been six months since Eita promised him a road trip, which he clutched onto dearly, but he didn’t know how to feel about it and that frustrated him to the utmost extent. “Kenjirou, _who_ are you talking to?”

“You and your stupid fucking car, _dumbass_ ,” he hissed back, then recoiled his head for another blow against the wheel. Fuck everything; he wanted this trip to start well, end well, and have minimal travel bumps in the middle. A simple desire. Or so he _thought_ , because twenty minutes after they packed themselves into the car, Kenjirou found that the engine only turned over when he clicked the keys into place. And now he was going to lose his shit, especially since the ever-annoying Eita decided to ignore all the world’s problems and snore as loud as hell in the passenger seat to his left. “It’s not starting and you’re fucking sitting there, useless as shit.”

Eita stirred, lifting his head off the back shoulder of his seat. He forced his eyes open, enough to make out Kenjirou’s pissy features, and the scowl he earned in the process of simply laying eyes upon his traveling companion. “Don’t get pissed off at me, Kenjirou,” he sighed, then shifted his position, allowing his shoulders to push up against the freezing car window. “I didn’t break it.”

“ _I_ didn’t either, shithead.” In the heat of the moment, Kenjirou hadn’t expected the door handle to break when he went to storm out of the car. But it did, and he was left with a piece of plastic in his palm and a fit of oncoming rage in the fist of the other. “ _Fuck_.” If Eita wasn’t at an awkward angle to get kicked, Kenjirou swore would’ve done it by now. The bitch didn’t even bat an eyelash as he _watched_ the car door break. 

Eita’s gaze remained lax as if he hadn’t even seen the events occur in front of him. Really, at this hour with his consciousness, he could’ve missed it, but with his overall attitude towards Kenjirou as of their break-up, the chances of him ignoring it were higher than usual. “Calm down, or whatever. Just go crawl out through the back seat--”

“Honestly? Shut up,” Kenjirou snapped, tossing the broken handle in Eita’s general direction, then proceeded to roll down the window. “I can do this myself.” As if the world could be placing even more bets against him. He, in retrospect of recent events, should have reconsidered climbing through the window. Seated on the gravel, with scraped hands and a sore ass, he promised himself he’d punch Eita at the next chance he got-- this all got too ridiculous too fast, and the next time something went long, he’d _scream_. Everything with Eita became stressful once they decided to throw aside their relationship; it wasn’t that things ended poorly, but a handful of miscommunications created unwanted tension between the things they did together. 

It hurt him. It hurt him _so bad_. He wished that his heart hadn’t taken things so badly, and he wished that Eita didn’t always act so differently around him. Yes, _Kenjirou_ was different, but every time they spoke, Eita decided to pour salt in wounds Kenjirou wanted to deny having. Life could be so much better that way. 

“Kenji?” The car shook as Eita clambered to the driver’s side, poking his head --dyed tips and all-- out the window to have a look at the ground situation. Kenjirou glared at him. “Are you okay?” Genuinely concerned and genuinely curious, Eita found his mood sour when Kenjirou flipped him off. God, all Kenjirou gave him these days were curse words and rude gestures, and though part of him wanted to call him out for it, another part understood. Kenjirou confessed, Kenjirou ended the relationship, and most of all, he stuck out the longest when things got difficult. The more Eita thought, the more he realized that he hadn’t deserved his consideration at any point in time-- when they _were_ dating, he often disregarded feelings and, not just on the occasion, forgot to give Kenjirou any of _his_ attention. 

Still, they were adults. Twenty and twenty-one, unnecessarily dealing with poor attitudes towards each other. This whole ordeal deeply perplexed him. Why did Kenjirou _agree_ to spend time with one of his least favorite people? Especially in this manner, when the promise they’d based it off of seemed so _weak_. A drunk promise in the wee hours of the morning Eita assumed he’d forget with the times changing ahead. But he didn’t. He didn’t and, in fact, he stood in front of Eita’s dorm room two weeks before their drunk-scheduled leave with a map in hand. Why had he done this only to remember that he hated Eita? Was it for spite? Did he feel like getting back at him for things he didn’t remember doing? 

Why did Kenjirou always take up his thoughts like this?

Kenjirou extended an arm, then snapped his fingers in Eita’s face. “I’m _fine_ , but are you gonna actually listen to me or not?” Eita raised both eyebrows. “Get out of your broken as shit car and help me fix it.”

Silence spread between them, but it grew to be unbearable as Kenjirou continued to refuse to blink. Eita pursed his lips, but mustered out a weak, “Alright, fine.” And then he clambered out the car via the window as well. 

Though _talking_ with Kenjirou remained unpleasant, when they popped the hood of the car and peered at the contents within, he wordlessly began working at the wires as Eita watched, albeit less tired but still unable to fully process things, in awe. Kenjirou seemed oddly unthreatening when he worked without talking, an obvious beauty in general, but more so when he didn’t swear at you every two seconds. So Eita lingered by the front of the car and took things that Kenjirou needed someone to hold into his arms. The morning had been hectic, _entirely_ too hectic for Eita’s generally relaxed tastes. And now, when things finally settled, he found his pulse at ease, even slower than when he’d fallen asleep in the car only half an hour prior. 

In the past, he felt comfortable beside him, then things changed and their relationship got rockier than needed. But now, in the cold air, as the sun rose over his shoulder, it was alright to stand beside Kenjirou again.

**{sunrise | sunset}**

The drive out of the city consisted of mainly a sore ass and poor attitude from both parties; Eita woke up from his nap by Kenjirou’s road rage on several occasions and found himself tired of sitting two hours into their venture. Some part of him asked if he was in hell, and the other simply couldn’t stop dwelling on how uncomfortable the seat felt. All in all, he could rate this road trip as one of the worst, and they were barely a fraction of the way through. It surely didn’t help that Kenjirou took his anger out on the brake pedal. 

“You have the _stupidest_ car I have ever driven,” Kenjirou hissed in the direction of the passenger seat at a particular red light, five seconds away from snapping his sanity in half and going absolutely wild on the rest of the car. Eita offered up gum half an hour earlier, and since then all he heard was aggressive chewing. Not only did Kenjirou serve as a terrible project partner in university, but he also showed that no one should go on a trip with him. Ever. 

Eita needed to give himself some credit, though. He didn’t consider himself a patient person but he did know that Kenjirou hadn’t _quite_ gotten on his nerves, and he hoped it stayed that way for a greater portion of the trip. One of them needed to stay level-headed, in case of an emergency. So he took this mindset with pride, easing himself away from talking to Kenjirou while they got stuck in traffic. Instead, he turned to count the divets in clouds outside, shielding his eyes from the dim sun peeking between a few of them. If it were sunny, he knew Kenjirou would have a little fit about it being in his face.

The weather was nice, really. Somewhat expected of the area they got stuck in, but nice for heading to the beach-- no one would face the torture of walking on the hot sand. Eita grew up near the water and in the past, as a young child, grew afraid of sunny beach days because of the state of the bottoms of his feet after the fact. He of course no longer harbored such a fear, but the caution remained strong. And just a tiny, tiny thought crossed his mind. A situation where he purposely avoided telling Kenjirou of the pain and watched him hop around trying to get his feet to the water.

At the thought, he chuckled.

But the thought turned sour; he knew that he didn’t have the ability to laugh at Kenjirou and get away with it any longer. They barely made the mark for _friends_ after the catastrophe of a breakup they went through. His chest hurt at the idea of losing him, even if he refused to think of romantic feelings for him. Oh, how unbearable it was. He teetered on the edge of knowing emotions, yet they still felt too far out of reach. To the point where all he wanted was to throw in the towel and give up on Kenjirou, even when his heart screamed in refusal.

“Ew. He really just made that wide-ass turn,” Bending over the steering wheel, Kenjirou scowled after a small, unassuming car that took a left in front of them. Eita really hadn’t even noticed it-- Kenjirou’s words were the first thing he heard when he was sobered from his thoughts. “Disgusting. Have you ever seen anyone drive _worse_ than you?”

Why was he getting this turned on him? Eita lifted his head, clicked his tongue, and then allowed it to fall back against the window. His neck stiffened with every twitch of his muscles, and he found himself sore in every section of his body. Despite all this pain, he’d much rather deal with it than with Kenjirou. Kenjirou and all his road rage. Kenjirou and his spiteful comments, his scornful looks, his awful bangs. Who was Eita kidding? They wouldn’t be cute if Kenjirou didn’t have his face to offset how distasteful they were. 

The longer he dwelled on their appearance choices, the more he admitted that he needed some work as well. His fashion could definitely improve. His hair was pretty fucking cool though, even if Kenjirou would rather die than admit it. In his defense, he didn’t see how bad it was.

Eita opened his mouth, a reply to Kenjirou daring to exit his mouth. He shut it only second later, then reopened as he debated how he was going to go about this. If he mentioned ‘calming down’ to Kenjirou, he’d get some snarky comment back, and if he agreed, Kenjirou would instantly change is opinion. _No one could win_ in any of their conversations. And frustrating as it was, he still needed a reason to actually be _mad_ at Kenjirou. He found himself so neutral on the matter, despite getting trashed by all his harsh words on a daily basis. 

In contrast to their current stiff relationship, he did know Kenjirou well. He knew him as he knew himself, really-- he knew he didn’t mean half the stuff he said, no matter the number of times he denied it. And he knew he hid some things and disregarded certain feelings in fear of dealing with them and looking anything less than the angry person he was. Eita understood it; everyone has problems with emotions at times. They’re too much, in all reality. 

He knew living too boldly came as a fear to the entire world, and some just pushed that aside when they wanted something. Living too boldly, loving too hard, and feeling too strongly all boiled down to the same single fear of seeming out of place. Though Kenjirou might not have cared about it consciously, the last time he pushed himself out of a friend group, he fell into a small depression which he blamed on college stress. 

“Do you want me to--?” Eita gave up trying to win and said what he wanted, but was cut off before he could even finish. 

“I’m _capable_. Shut up.”

Nothing like hearing the wonderful tune of Kenjirou being salty.

**{the first sight of sand | ocean}**

Kenjirou’s eyelids gained weight the farther the narrow highway stretched out in front of him; he barely made out the sunrise of the horizon of the bright blue ocean, and a wave of mist long since ran over the rural roads ahead. He couldn't tell when the asphalt cut off, a ledge down to the small trench on the side of the highway. Beyond that, though, was a sight of the ocean.

A sight he'd never laid eyes on-- only in pictures, at least. But to hell with every other landscape because he fell instantly in love with this one. Especially now, even at this hour, the water sparkled and the sun cast a beautiful pink shadow across it. His heart rose, and fluttered, but then fell the moment Eita stirred beside him. Really, every time Kenjirou tried to enjoy something on his lonesome, the idiot always came to join and ruin it. He was _trying_ here and he'd rather not have the disgusting Semi Eita enter and ruin his mood. 

For the past day, Kenjirou had only been running through all these ill-mannered thoughts about Eita, forcing himself into the unlikely mindset where he _genuinely_ hated the guy. He didn’t and surely some part of him would’ve liked to deny that, but he couldn’t. He found little dislike for Eita, apart from loathing his fashion choices and music taste. The edgy idiot only listened to heavy metal as if his life depended on it-- Kenjirou would much rather sit in silence. Much, much rather. Silence became his friend in the many days where everything around him got too damn aggravating, even to the point where music pissed him off. He couldn’t focus on anything. His mind lingered on all the noise, residue from shouts and chattering and conversations he couldn’t quite remember but wanted to oh-so-badly. And maybe all this stress put weight on his relationship with Eita later on, yet he’d rather not blame anyone for the way things went. After all, they chose to go their own ways because of the lack of emotions for each other, minus the few fights they had in the final two weeks. 

The last thing he wanted in the silence of the car, considering his lack of mental comprehension due to the time of day, was to get nostalgic. Why did his mind return to it all, just then? It caught him off-guard so awfully fast, too fast for him to catch his bearings as he took a right onto the dirt pathway, winding down to the shoreline. Fortunately, the world was empty here. Only him, Eita, and their luggage in the trunk, silence stretching out for miles. 

Kenjirou thought his ears would start ringing. He prodded at the power for the radio console, but it only flickered on and off. When he hit it, harder, the second time, it blared into bright life-- a scratchy pop song due to the low reception. And the volume was up far too high.

Dammit. Now Eita was really awake. And he’d probably be grumpy, with the way he’d been woken up. But when he glanced to the side, after turning off the radio once more, he still lay fast asleep, chest heaving slowly and head against the cold glass of the window. Kenjirou pulled off to the side of the road, only to make sure he stayed asleep _of course_. No other reason-- impossible. But when he lowered his foot onto the brake and glanced to his right, Eita’s face took the whole of his attention. He wondered why it had to be like this, almost spitefully, gaze plastered to his companion’s long eyelashes, safely tucked chin, and body lax. 

Compared to the state Kenjirou had seen him in before, he looked so _alright_ now. Like if you asked him how he was doing, he’d be able to truthfully say “I’m okay.” And knowing that there were times when Eita wasn’t okay --the farthest from it at one point-- he could hear the hypothetical response in his head, with such a specific, relieved tone. If only he could hear Eita say it to his face soon. Flat-out, no hesitation: ‘Kenjirou, I’m okay.’ He’d deny his comfort in hearing it, but he’d never shake the feeling of being _proud_ to hear his state of ‘okay’ness. After all, they went through hell for each other and with each other; how hard was it to be so concerned for someone like that?

Tears stung his eyes-- his nose burned. He sat here, almost entirely on his lonesome on the side of an empty road, watching his ex-boyfriend _sleep_ , and then started crying about it. How unlike him. How disgustingly out of character and how painful. He’d changed since Eita, since knowing his love and accepting it at one point. Since everything with him, really. Some turmoil in his stomach caused him to question why he sat here, why he agreed to come and why he enjoyed his time with Eita. 

But why, at the end of all things, did he want to be normal with him again?

**{warm | cold}**

“Fuck. We can’t keep the heater running all night,” Kenjirou drew the keys from the ignition, pinning a sigh between his lips; it wouldn’t help so he didn’t bother. Being as straightforward as possible on this trip hadn’t failed him yet, but when it did, he wanted to work on pinning his sanity together properly. 

They hadn’t made it to the next small town over that evening (or morning, really-- it was four), and were left in a parking lot beside a beach. Eita neared the edge of drowsiness by then, still seated in the passenger seat. He’d been put there indefinitely after nearly falling asleep while driving at midnight. In his defense, he never slept well anywhere other than his bed, and Kenjirou’s soft snoring didn’t ease his restlessness by very much. So instead of admitting to his fatigue without any other excuses, he blamed it on the one and only Kenjirou, who had been on his mind too much lately. 

Kenjirou this, Kenjirou that. Kenjirou, _why_ do I still love you? 

Eita was awake all of a sudden, merely from this thought that passed his mind in the slightest moment. He hadn’t realized it came up until five seconds after, a revelation that hit him harder than the waves yesterday. Because holy _shit_. This was unbelievable. After such a difficult period focusing only on his studies, disregarding any romance in his life after their break up, it all had to return just because of some stupid conversation? Or had he been denying it for this long that his mind decided to uncover it when he was tired and unable to fight back? Why now? And why to everything else? He still hadn’t received any answers and he didn’t know if he would, though, he hadn’t expected them when he asked in the first place. Who would? Kenjirou? Of course not. He knew the guy and still had strong feelings for him, and he knew he wasn’t going to get much out of needless interrogation. 

How could he be so sure that he loved him, anyway? Did their past relationship have love?

And as he dealt with this draining turmoil, Kenjirou continued to swear at the car and hash out a weak solution to this minor problem, especially when it stood next to Eita’s thoughts. His thousands of thoughts, dwelling on memories that sat fresh in the back of his head, tucked away from all the others to pull off the shelf and recover when he needed extra comfort. Kenjirou provided that for him, after all this time. Maybe he loved him because of that-- because of history and his wild dislike for change. Maybe he loved him. A solid maybe eased his thoughts enough, then, but something else was triggered when Kenjirou finally decided to address Eita instead of muttering curses to himself.

“Let’s just sleep in the back seat. It’s warmer.” Fuck. _Really,_ _Kenjirou_ _?_ Eita demanded the answer to a question that never made it out of his mouth, gaze lidded as he eyed Kenjirou in the seat beside him. He’d like to sigh, much like his companion, but neither of them did. Instead, they watched each other, wordlessly, until Kenjirou raised both eyebrows and made an aggressive gesture to the back seat. 

The cold dawned on them at that point. Kenjirou bit back chattering teeth, setting his eyebrows into a scowl as he clambered between the passenger and driver’s seats, flopping down on the right back seat. He poked his head up, beckoning for Eita’s attention, “C’mon. I’m not sleeping in your dirty fucking back seat by myself.”

“So vulgar,” Eita murmured, just loud enough for Kenjirou to hear and glare at him for, then followed after. The tension remained awkward, though. It didn’t improve for sure, but Eita still debated it worsening. For the duration of the trip, things just seemed so _off_ . Not only because their relationship looked like a hellhole from the outside, but because Kenjirou inadvertently invited him to be an enclosed space _together_ , just moments ago. “Let me sit down, Kenjirou.” He settled his feet onto the ground, then hit his head on the ceiling while trying to readjust himself. Kenjirou, having wasted all his kindness on inviting him into the back seat, tried to take up as much space as possible, leaving Eita to squish himself into the left side of the car. 

For a solid two minutes, they sat in deafening silence, even to the extent where Kenjirou heard the same annoying ringing in his ears as when he drove them through the mornings and nights. So he spoke, in a tone soft enough to fool Eita into thinking someone else had said it. “Eita?” His lips, ajar, settled against each other. He mulled through thoughts that he once shoved into the back of his mind at the beginning of their trip, but with exhaustion, he let loose. And unfortunately, Eita would listen to everything he had to say, no matter how stupid it came across. He merely grunted in response to Kenjirou. “What...happened?”

“Huh?” Eita curled his neck, then rested his head on the side shoulder of the seat he settled into, a small blanket draped across his lap from the pile of luggage behind them. “How d’you mean?” Kenjirou sounded more tired than ever, and considering the times they spent studying until early into the morning, watching the sunrise in each other’s company. He probably would forget all this by tomorrow; Eita could be content with that, as long as it eased his mind for now. 

This time, their silence lasted five seconds. “I dunno. Like, I keep wanting to know why I agreed to do this with you? I don’ think I like you anymore-- Maybe? Honestly, I’d like to know the answer to that question, too.” He pushed himself fully upright, but promptly turned his back to Eita, then scooted himself up right next to him. Half his mind sifted through questions he needed to ask, then a quarter kept him awake, and the final section did its best to stop from spilling _all_ his feelings onto Eita. “You don’t have to answer, by the way.”

Eita pursed his lips, but ultimately chose he needed to help Kenjirou. Poor, exhausted Kenjirou, who’d done surprisingly well piecing his sanity back together this trip. “You should keep thinking. There’s no rush, honestly. It’s not like I’m gonna disappear after this trip; we’ll still know each other and _hopefully,_ we can be friends again and--” He would have stopped himself soon. Instead, Kenjirou took the chance to do it for him and interrupted with his take on those words. 

“That’s it. _That_ is what I want. I wanna be someone special to you, but I don’t wanna date,” he mumbled, allowing his eyes to fall shut. “Eita, why’s the-- Nevermind. I think I know what I need.” After another few moments of silence, Eita poked his head out to check if his companion had fallen asleep, but he stared up at the ceiling of the car instead. 

Perhaps they weren’t going to get sleep, but at least they spoke inside the car now more than the rest of the trip. Before, neither could bear themselves to say something they might want to escape from by distance and, now sleep-deprived, they didn’t have control over their common sense or anxieties. For the better of their relationship and their woes, but not for the memories of that situation in the morning. 

Kenjirou simply felt lucky to know what he wanted, even if he didn’t like how he’d gone about it. Rather than admitting to his faults at four in the morning, he just stayed silent, and Eita proceeded to have a one-sided conversation when they both left the car at eight to head down to the beach. 

As they walked, Eita’s voice the only thing about the occasional squawk of birds and crash of the waves, Kenjirou offered up a hand. Much to his relief, Eita took it wordlessly, without even skipping a beat.

**{you | me}**

After a night of little to no sleep in the back seat, they spent their day on the sand, and in the water, though most of the time Kenjirou was pushed into the waves by Eita. And between the lack of rest and Kenjirou snapping at Eita the entire early morning, the day would’ve turned sour quick, but the sun showed bright that day. It felt normal even though Kenjirou had never set foot in the ocean until then. They only looked over the water the few times they reached it or took walks that ended in Kenjirou insulting Eita on the sand. But today, Kenjirou’s heart came to rest. With twelve hours and perhaps plenty more to think about things. All the things. He figured out why he needed Eita to go on this trip. 

_Closure_ . He’d yearned for it, day and night, even after they settled on breaking up. He needed Eita to tell him they were done and that was final. To tell him it wasn’t anyone’s fault, so he didn’t spend so many evenings staring down at his coursework, staining it with a slow drip of tears. He missed Eita-- even if he didn’t want to say anything, and so he blamed himself for all the things that resulted in them splitting. Eita assured him, once, and Kenjirou did the same, but _once_ never amounted to anything when you questioned yourself on the daily. When you wondered how you messed up so bad.

Near the end of the bright day --when the overwhelming warmth of a long day at the beach finally hit you, and walking across the sand, back to the car, exhausted you more than anything else that day. When you could practically taste all the saltwater mistakenly swallowed down your throat-- Eita pulled him up the rows and rows of wooden slats, acting as stairs, all the way to the cliff that overlooked the beach. The beaches along the shoreline held mountains behind them, fitted with perfect heights to look across the entirety of the landscape. 

The sight was beautiful, much like the view from the sand below, but more so when you saw everything off in the distance; the curve of the land. It hooked around, creating a curve and a nook, a haven. No one had visited the beach the entire day. Sure, cars passed by on the highway behind them, but no one stopped long enough to even get out of their vehicle. They had the world to themselves that day-- the one that stretched on forever.

And wordlessly they lingered on the overlook, shoulders touching and hands hooked on the railing. 

“I think I still love you,” Eita murmured, right against Kenjirou’s ear, as if his words didn’t hold any power at all. “but I don’t need love from you. I need to get over you. So don’t say anything, alright? Just remember that I love you.”

How unfair of Eita. How terribly unfair and yet even more unfair that Kenjirou moved closer to him. Close enough to kiss.

Eita’s mouth tasted familiar, in a longing, devastating sense; Kenjirou knew he couldn’t kiss him ever again after this. Against the railing of the ocean overlook, bent by the little of his back, he kept uncomfortably close to Eita. His warmth and comfort. All the things Kenjirou managed to like him over, returning in one swift, terrible wave. Didn’t he know better than this? He questioned, preoccupied with fighting off heat in his stomach. The same one that returned, every time Eita did this to him. 

As soon as it started, it ended. A daunting and ominous sort of end, especially when he knew he’d never catch ahold of Eita and that feeling of his lips against his. It came like a slap in the face-- too hard for him to comprehend until it was a bit too late. The moment came crashing down upon him, as violent as the waves far down below, causing a chaos of noise. If only time worked like the waves did, pulling in and pushing out, over and over, static. If only Kenjirou could relive a moment like that. He'd be grateful, no matter how much he refused to give Eita permission to re-enter his heart. There was too much hurt there, for now, settled up against a fond memory of being in Eita's arms, not far but not too close. Enough for Kenjirou and all his prickliness. Enough for them to leave each other knowing they had been loved. 

For Eita, of course, those feelings lingered for far too long. 

The walk back to the car consisted of standing at least five feet apart, and Kenjirou debating whether or not to hide in the trunk from sheer embarrassment. Eita promised to drive before they set out for the sand that morning-- he stuck to it. As he put the keys into the ignition and noticed Kenjirou lurking just beside the passenger door, he finally addressed the unspoken tension that sat between them after their kiss. 

He rolled the window down, leaning to his right as if to catch Kenjirou’s attention through the opening. Little did he know, all Kenjirou thought of was _him_. He had all of his attention, just not in the proper way. He beckoned for it, “Kenjirou.”

“What?” Kenjirou’s tone bit a lot harder than he wanted it to, but he refused to correct himself-- he couldn’t become entirely soft in front of Eita (again). “What do you need from me?”

“Just a small bit of time to tell you I’m sorry,” Eita raised his eyebrows, gaze falling over the entirety of his scornful demeanor. He didn’t mean to present himself like that, nor could he stop it. Being affectionate like that wore him out. “and for you to get into the car so we can go. There’s only one more place to go, you know.”

Between the gentle sound of Eita’s words and the hand he extended, Kenjirou was swayed into listening, though he silently obliged. And in the car, while the sky washed in violet, they intertwined their fingers. Maybe no romance lingered in the space where it used to, but something sat there. Something so Eita-like and Kenjirou-like that neither could bring themself to pull away, in desperate fear of losing it as easily as they lost each other. And as Kenjirou’s pace finally slowed from their single and final kiss, he knew he’d get the chance to tell Eita the whole lot of things he’d want to without trouble, even if it didn’t happen today or tomorrow, or for a long few days after that. 

They’d just be friends once more.

**{he loves the ocean | but he loves you too}**

The tires crunched over loose sand and gravel, then slowed to a final stop on the side of the highway. It inclined, high up onto an overlook that offered a view of the turquoise water, rolling up onto the shell-ridden sands. Eita drove them, that day-- he’d visited the beach plenty of times in his childhood and he knew the road like the back of his hand. ****

Kenjirou watched the ocean move, half his mind on the water, and the other two busy thinking of Eita to realize the engine fell silent. As the stillness of the moment sobered him, his breath caught in his throat; it’d been a long, long week, between their kiss and the holding hands and the closeness and _everything_ he missed about Eita. Things sat right with him now, though, as he reached for the door handle to release all his pent-up sighs into the brisk air. The elevation allowed for a brisk wind, but the sun fought against it. He wished to bask in it, in its warmth, in all the things he wanted to forget but couldn’t, knowing that he’d regret losing the memories around his mistakes. There wasn’t an equivalent exchange for something like that because, at the end of all things, you lose more than you think you will. ****

And he’d lost enough already. ****

Eita’s movement drew him from his thoughts. After struggling to open the broken car door, he slipped around the length of the car and came to the side facing the edge of the cliff. “Kenjirou.” He beckoned attention with a soft call, gaze shifting between the sand and the sea down below. “I think I’m alright with everything.” ****

“Hm?” His eyebrows flicked up, furrowing, as he took a few light steps towards where Eita stood. “What d’you mean?” Kenjirou tilted his head, the corners of his lips perking, though not in any kind of joy. A solemn, wistful sort of look. One he wished didn’t linger on his face for so long, and he knew he’d never miss when it finally washed away. ****

Cocking his head, he gently replied, “I’m okay with how things ended between us. Like, I-I wish they _hadn’t_ ended, but it could’ve been worse. I don’t feel the need to ask you any questions, y’know? I have closure.” The pause in his words stretched much longer in Kenjirou’s head than in reality, yet he still felt no need to interject. He stood there, lips pursed, and listened. “I don’t think you should worry about us anymore. We’ll go back to normal.” ****

And though Kenjirou knew Eita meant the most genuine of all things, doubt settled at the very pit of his chest. How could he be entirely sure? So confident between all those worries that he came out and said that with enviable ease. Kenjirou only stood and wished he believed him. ****

The wind caught his hair, blowing it against his cheek, and between the strands, he caught Eita’s direct gaze. If the sun hadn't nearly finished setting and half of his mind wasn’t focused on the sound of the waves crashing every few moments, he would’ve mulled over his words a bit more than he had just then. ****

Heaving a sigh, he blurted, “I love you, Eita.” ****

And this, of course, caught Eita’s attention, as if Kenjirou hadn’t already gotten ahold of that. His gaze fell soon after, though, and Kenjirou’s heart followed. Oh, he knew he messed up now. He knew it would hurt Eita, the way he’d said it. So emotionally. Thing was, the emotions behind it weren’t incorrect; he did love Eita, but it wasn’t really in the way he wished it could go back to. That intoxicating edge of being just a bit more than friends but refraining from saying it. Despite all the inner turmoil that arrived with it, he did love the feeling. ****

“I love you too. And don’t make that face,” he chided as if to lighten the mood from the dim place it had fallen. Kenjirou donned a melancholic expression, lips still aligned in a frown. When Eita reminded him of it, though, he allowed parts of it to slip away, then averted his gaze knowing that after his frown slipped away, he might get more upset. “C’mon, Kenjirou. It’s fine.” ****

Yeah, it was fine. It was fine in the sense that Kenjirou would miss this feeling of knowing Eita and loving him so unconditionally. Never wavering and somehow always increasing. Those days were over, he knew. He knew a lot of things that were over and would be over and his heart still felt just a twinge of pain when he took it over in his head. Getting so close to Eita was over, and loving him as a lover does was over. Insisting on spending time together was over, begrudgingly caring for him was over, and most of all-- loving him like that was over. ****

He could accept it. The deal seemed much better when compared to other types of things he could receive. So he took it, face-value, and nodded, then turned to head back into the car without another word. The soles of his shoes scraped against the loose asphalt in the ground, sending rocks this way and that. He reached the car quickly, though, afraid to catch some unwanted chills while lingering outside. Though he debated on calling Eita after him, he knew he’d settle into the car and relish the silence he got in those few moments. And god, even though the space between the car and the person behind him looked so small compared to the rest of the world, he couldn’t help but linger at the halfway point, as if the distance had already been too far. Something tugged on him, trying to get him closer and closer to Eita, even if he didn’t want it. ****

So he fought off the urge, tucked his hands underneath his arms, then proceeded to turn his back and walk to the car the full length. ****

In the darkness on the way back home, only the whistling of the wind and faint music from the radio could be heard, echoing in Kenjirou’s head as he forced himself to sleep that night. His head ached with the thoughts of the future. With the thoughts of this dream ending, even if he’d never spoken it aloud for as long as he lived. He couldn’t imagine getting all mushy on Eita, not after saying such intimate words to him on the overlook only hours before this. ****

So instead he fell asleep, dreaming of the ocean he knew Eita loved and allowing his anxiety to settle on the idea of being alright with how things were. ****

**{home.}**

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading !!


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